


if i had a heart

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Violence, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Psychological Trauma, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Going to the Games was bad. Going to the Games with one’s best friend was hell.
Relationships: Andrey Rublev/Alexander Zverev, Dominic Thiem/Alexander Zverev
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	if i had a heart

**Author's Note:**

> If you don’t know me yet, I’m a sucker for Hunger Games AUs. And when I get the chance to send someone to the Hunger Games, I send them to the Hunger Games.

On the screen, it almost looks like the scene is in black and white only. White is everywhere, as the snow in the arena was always crisp white. And then there are two black figures, two boys with bows and arrows, aiming at each other’s hearts, barely six feet apart.

Back then, when an arrow was pointing at his heart, Sascha didn’t have time to think about it, but now he realizes that if he didn’t know the person facing him was Andrey, he would hardly recognize him.

_His hair is damp, and frozen on the tips. He’s skin and bones, the already prominent cheekbones are casting dark shadows on the rest of his face, and his eyes are framed by dark circles._

_There’s something feral in his eyes, too._

_“Well, that’s funny, isn’t it?” he says. “If you kill me, you’ll die as well.”_

_“And the other way round,” Sascha nods. “It doesn’t matter who shoots first.”_

_Andrey smiles, and it’s a distant, tired smile. His lips, chapped from cold and thirst, start to bleed. “I guess… whoever’s arm tires first.”_

The voice of the host tears Sascha out of the trance, and he realizes that he is no longer there, in the ice and snow, but in the studio that is unbearably hot and stuffy, and that Andrey isn’t aiming at his heart anymore, but he’s sitting next to him, and his hand is lightly touching Sascha’s where they are resting next to each other, maybe without him even realizing it.

“What a moment!” the host says. “What a moment.”

The way he makes it sound is all wrong. It wasn’t a moment to remember. It was a moment out of a nightmare. One they would rather forget.

Then he turns to Andrey. “What was on your mind? Talk us through it.”

Andrey gives a shy smile and lowers his eyes. “I… I remember just thinking… that I couldn’t let go. I can’t let go, that was all.”

The host turns to Sascha.

“I… I don’t think I was thinking at all,” Sascha says, and the audience laughs.

It’s a lie.

 _Or whoever gives up first_ , Sascha remembers thinking in that moment.

He was a split second away from lowering his arms when something in Andrey’s eyes stopped him.

And then the booming voice came.

He realized it only later. Andrey knew what game he was playing. He knew they would rather have two victors than none.

~ ~ ~

When they came back, Daniil pulled them aside, to a place he knew was safe to talk. They could see all the lights of the Capitol from there. There was never so much light home. Despite being the district that produced power for the whole country, they never had power to waste on unnecessary things like fountains and street lights.

“What you did there…” Daniil said slowly. “They’re not going to like that.”

“They’re not going to like that one of us refused to let the other kill him?” Sascha asked incredulously.

Daniil sighed and looked at Andrey. “You can’t outsmart the Capitol. You know that. I want no smug smile, no snarky remarks, you’re going to act like you had no idea what you were doing.”

Andrey nodded. For some reason, he looked more scared than Sascha ever remembered from the arena. Like a child that did something forbidden, and knew the price for it would be high if they were caught.

Then, Daniil turned to Sascha.

“You… just stay as clueless as you are.”

~ ~ ~

_The Sascha on the the screen is still clueless. He drops the bow and pulls Andrey into a hug._

_He remembers that bit, but not the details. Only now on the screen, he notices that Andrey didn’t hug him back, and while Sascha’s eyes are firmly closed as he is holding him, Andrey just stares into the distance over Sascha’s shoulder. Like Sascha is holding an empty shell._

_And then it goes back to the beginning. They are in District Five, standing on the square, and Sascha can still feel the dread in the pit of his stomach._

When they drew Andrey’s name, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Not for Sascha, at least. He knew that Andrey had been buying the _tesserae_ for years, and his name was in the bowl many times. Andrey was counting more on being reaped than not, and he was as prepared as he could be. Nowhere near the career districts, of course, but definitely more than the kids from other districts… and definitely more than Sascha.

Sascha’s family didn’t need any extra rations to keep themselves alive, and Sascha’s name was there only as many times as it had to be there. His older brother made it through all the years he could be reaped, and Sascha had always thought that the odds were in his favor as well. Apparently not.

If this weren’t the Quarter Quell, he wouldn’t be standing there. It would be just Andrey, and one of the girls. But the girls were safe for this year. 

He doesn’t remember going to the stage at all. It’s like he is now watching a movie where they somehow added him in without his consent. But he remembers the feeling, the way it changed from dread to absolute despair, and he thought that his heart was going to break into pieces.

Their entire childhood flashed in front of Sascha’s eyes in the few moments they stood together on the stage. They’d play together by the dam, despite their parents banning them from coming near it, as it was obviously dangerous. But there was something majestic and magical about that place, disregarding the fact that it produced electricity for the whole Capitol and half of the Panem. It was so loud they had to shout, and even then they’d barely hear each other, so they sort of invented their own language consisting of gestures and looks, and later on, it resembled more telepathy than anything else. Sascha taught Andrey how to swim, Andrey taught him how to climb trees. Sascha would bring him sweets from his parents’ shop, without them knowing, of course, and Andrey would make him slingshots and wooden whistles. And when Andrey was old enough to start working at the power plant, Sascha would wait for him at the gates every evening, so that they could spend at least a few moments together.

Going to the Games was bad. Going to the Games with one’s best friend was hell.

~ ~ ~

He’d never met their mentors before. People in Five would usually stay clear of the Victors’ Village. There was no one to visit, anyway. Out of the twelve houses, only two were occupied.

Daniil was the first person from their district to ever win the Games. At first, everyone thought it was a coincidence, a lucky accident. But when Karen won the Games the following year, the effect it had was unexpected. All of a sudden, District Five stepped out of the shadows. People there started to believe that even they had a chance to win.

Well, people like Andrey, at least.

“Eat while you have the chance,” Karen said when they sat at the table in Capitol. “You both look like a gush of wind could break you.”

Truth to be told, Sascha has always looked like that, and it wasn’t like his family had nothing to eat. Coming from the merchant quarter, they were quite well-off. But still, there were meals on the table he had never seen in his life.

Andrey didn’t look like he cared what he was eating, having a full plate was enough for him.

Then it was time for Daniil to start talking business.

“This is the Quarter Quell, which means that the odds are fucking not in your favor,” he began. “I’m not saying the girls wouldn’t be dangerous, but the whole dynamics is going to be different.”

“Any good news?” Sascha asked.

“You’re not as hopeless as those from the last year,” Daniil said. “You both have some potential, I’d say.”

“Tributes from Five aren’t in high demand when it comes to alliances,” Karen said. “If you stick together…”

“No.”

Sascha lifted his head from the plate and looked at Andrey. It felt like a slap in the face.

The two mentors didn’t look any less surprised.

“No, as in… you don’t want him as your ally?” Daniil asked carefully.

“I don’t want any allies,” Andrey said. “I want to do this alone.”

Daniil and Karen exchanged worried looks.

“Well, the thing is… very few tributes won the Games by staying alone,” Daniil said. “It’s better to form an alliance early in the games, and then break it when…”

“To form an alliance,” Andrey interrupted him. “You need to trust someone. And I don’t trust anyone.”

Daniil nodded curtly, and then looked at Sascha.

“And you?”

“I’m willing to form an alliance,” Sascha said. “If Andrey doesn’t want to, then… with someone else.”

“Fine,” Daniil sighed and looked at Karen. “Which one of these two idiots you want to mentor, then?”

~ ~ ~

Sascha still tried to talk some sense into Andrey the following morning in the training centre. They would have at least some chance together… not at winning, probably, but… right. Nothing else than winning mattered. Maybe not embarrassing their district too much, if anyone cared.

But Andrey would have none of it.

“Sascha, I didn’t grow up the way you did,” he said. “I know how to survive.”

Sascha almost hated him in that moment. Not for the insinuation that he was a sheltered kid who never had to go to bed hungry, no, that was the truth. He hated the way Andrey was lying to himself. He wanted to jump on him and hold him down and scream at him until he would realize how foolish he was, but that was out of question there. He pushed him instead, and already that was risky, because they weren’t allowed to fight before the Games.

“Finally stop acting like you really believe you can win!” he barked at him.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Andrey whispered. “I can. And I will.”

Sascha just shook his head. There was no point in arguing. He felt like whatever used to be between them was already broken, and he didn’t want to make it worse. If they had to die, he didn’t want them to die hating each other.

He watched Andrey make way to the stand with the weapons, and then headed towards the station that was supposed to teach them survival skills. Not that he thought it was more important, or that he particularly wanted to learn how to make a fishing hook, he just wanted to be as far away from Andrey as possible.

He spent a few minutes clicking on the board which was showing him different kinds of plants, asking him to decide whether they were poisonous or not. He was guessing in more than half of the cases, because he had never seen those plants in his life. His mind wasn’t even there, and he realized that the picture hasn’t changed for about a minute because he still hasn’t made his decision.

“The answer is no, don’t even think of touching this one,” someone said behind him.

Sascha turned around and looked at the boy.

“Dominic,” he said. “District Eleven.”

“I’m Sascha,” Sascha said. “From Five.”

“That makes sense,” Dominic smiled. “Not an environmentally friendly district.”

Sascha smiled as well. “No, not really.”

“Fine, let me show you a couple tricks,” Dominic said and approached him, before pausing and looking at Sascha nervously. “I mean… if you want me to.”

Sascha did.

~ ~ ~

He got back to their floor in the evening. Daniil was already waiting for him. Sascha looked around, but it was only the two of them. Apparently, him and Andrey were truly opponents now. No family dinners.

“Found any possible allies today?” Daniil asked when Sascha filled his plate.

“Yes, I think I found someone I’d like.”

Daniil nodded contentedly. “Which district?”

“Eleven.”

Daniil sighed deeply. “Sascha… I meant a useful ally.”

“But it makes sense!” Sascha objected. “Dominic, he… he’s from Eleven. He knows every single plant, every single herb… he knows what’s edible and what’s not. With my luck, I would poison myself with the first thing I’d come across! I have to eat something in the arena, and he will know what we can eat. Or he will know how to treat an injury…”

“Fine,” Daniil nodded. “Fine. Eleven. Let’s suppose he can keep you alive by not letting you starve then, but that means that you have to keep both of you alive by not letting anyone kill you. Can you do that?”

Sascha shrugged. Honestly, how was he supposed to know?

“At least he’s not a threat,” he mumbled then.

Daniil narrowed his eyes. “Careful with the ‘not a threat’. Remember last year? That sweet boy Denis wasn’t a threat either, when he was cooking the Careers’ meals and finding them safe food to eat… until he poisoned them all with water hemlock.”

Sascha lowered his eyes. He had to admit that Daniil was right. Keeping close to the Careers until they killed most of the other tributes, and then killing them all was a master plan, and no one expected it from the boy who had never picked up a weapon before that.

“Dominic is not like that,” he said.

“How do you know?”

Sascha just shrugged. He didn’t know. It was a gut feeling. He trusted Dominic.

He needed to trust someone.

~ ~ ~

He didn’t have an opportunity to talk to Andrey until the interviews. Their mentors kept them apart most of the time, and if not them, then the game faces they already had on.

Sascha knew that he won himself, and perhaps also Dominic, the sponsors that night, with his bright smile and cheeky attitude people would fall in love with so easily. The interviews were the easiest part. The Capitol took to him much easier than they ever would to Andrey. They nicknamed him “Golden Boy” straight away, and he didn’t even have to put up an act.

Andrey wasn’t the one to impress them, and he himself probably felt like he didn’t really have anything to offer to impress them. He wasn’t the shining sun, he was the pale moon, cold and hard and distant. There was something different underneath, warm and gentle and loving, but no one would get to see it. Not now, and probably not ever again. Sascha knew, Sascha remembered it from the countless afternoons at the dam in Five, but maybe it was gone now. Maybe it stayed there, or drowned in the water.

He didn’t get to see Andrey’s interview, and he didn’t know if he really wanted to see it. He could only guess which of the faces he had chosen to show the world. The boy who wanted to win the Games because it was something he’d always wanted to prove to himself and the world he could do. Or the boy who bought his family’s provisions every year by adding his name to the reaping bowl many more times than he had to. Perhaps the former. Revealing his feelings for his family wouldn’t be a smart move. _Never give them more than you have to,_ Daniil told them already on the train. _Whatever you give them, they will use it against you._

He didn’t give up on the idea of alliance with Andrey. For some reason, he still thought that he could talk some sense into him.

He put his hopes too high, and Andrey shattered them with one word.

“No.”

Dominic had warned him that Andrey wouldn’t want to hear about this alliance anyway. If he had refused Sascha, adding Dominic into the formula wouldn’t help the situation - quite the contrary. But Sascha felt like he needed to try anyway.

“We would be stronger in three.”

“The only way to win is to be the last one standing,” Andrey said, and raised his eyes to him. “The two of you are not planning to let me be the one, so what’s the point?”

Sascha closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t know why it hurt so much to be reminded that only one of them all would be coming back. He knew, of course, everyone knew the rules. But hearing them from Andrey felt like waking up from a dream. And suddenly, being the one that would come back almost seemed like the worst option.

“I wanted to have someone I could trust,” Sascha said. “And I trust you.”

Andrey just shook his head and turned his back to him, heading towards the elevators where Daniil and Karen were already waiting.

Sascha felt the tears stinging his eyes.

“Andrey!” he called after him desperately. “I don’t want it to end like this.”

Andrey stopped in his tracks. Then he slowly turned around and walked back to him, and then he embraced him. For a moment, it felt like before, for a moment, it took Sascha back to Five.

“Don’t trust me,” Andrey whispered in his ear. “Don’t trust anyone.”

~ ~ ~

_The screen is now showing the countdown._

Sascha remembers the look on Andrey’s face when he first saw the arena. This is a different angle, and he getsto see the glint in his eyes, but even back then, Sascha knew that Andrey liked what he was seeing.

Snow and ice.

It basically made Sascha’s alliance with Dominic completely useless before the Games even began. He should have broken it then. But the prospect of staying alone terrified him even more on the platform than it did when Andrey refused to form an alliance with him back then in the Capitol.

It’s strange to watch all of these faces now, knowing that they are all dead. All but the two of them. Sascha doesn’t even remember most of their names. Maybe it’s for the better.

_Dominic is searching the area with his eyes, measuring distance, figuring out the strategy. Next to him, Sascha’s body is taut like a bow, ready to leap, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looks over to where Andrey is standing. His face is unreadable, his posture almost relaxed. He looks like he doesn’t care, but Sascha knows him too well to be fooled by it. He knows it means that Andrey already has a plan. He wishes he could read his mind, and then he’s also scared of what he would find there._

_The canon sounds and Sascha springs forward. Him and Daniil have agreed on him trying to get as much as possible, no matter how risky it was. Get to a weapon first, then stand your ground. Running away and hiding isn’t an option, not if you want to win._

_Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the long-haired boy from Four sprint towards the Cornucopia, grabbing one of the two bows and quivers with arrows, completely disregarding anything actually useful for survival. He’s counting on sponsors, Sascha is sure about that._

_He looks at Dominic, who grabs the first thing he comes across, and then sprints away, just like they agreed he would. Sascha remembers the direction; he will find him later. He also looks for Andrey, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He spots him a bit to the side of the whole melée, far enough from the cornucopia to attract the attention of the careers._

_Something moves behind Sascha, and he moves his hand with a dagger blindly. He can tell that he didn’t miss, and he doesn’t even have to look. He doesn’t want to look._

_When he looks around again, Andrey is no longer there._

~ ~ ~

Fast forward to Sascha and Dominic sitting behind a mass of rocks.

_“What are you doing?” Sascha asks, looking at Dominic gathering some branches._

_“Starting a fire.”_

_“That’s probably not the best idea. The smoke…”_

_“Someone could see it, I know,” Dominic nods. “But if we don’t start a fire, we’ll freeze to death. Which one do you prefer?”_

_Sascha just shrugs. Truth is that more of them are likely to take that risk. And he knows that he’s not going to be the one to hunt them down._

_He’s fine with killing in self-defense, he’s already reconciled to that. But he’s not the hunter, really._

_“One of us will stay up,” he says. “We’ll take turns sleeping. We can’t let them surprise us.”_

_Dominic nods and looks into the flames._

_“You don’t need me,” he states. “I’ll just slow you down.”_

_“No!” Sascha says. “I… I do need you. I can’t do this alone.”_

_“You thought you didn’t know how to kill, and then you did it.”_

_Sascha shakes his head. “When I talked to my mentor before the Games, we talked about Denis, you know, the boy from Nine that won last year. And he told me that… maybe it showed one thing. That the times when all it took to win was brute force and a good weapon were over. That maybe now, a brain is the most dangerous weapon, if it’s wired the right way.”_

_Dominic looks at him._

_“And that’s where people like you or Andrey are much better off than me,” Sascha says._

_“Andrey perhaps,” Dominic laughs. “Not me.”_

_“Andrey knows how to survive,” Sascha mumbles. “So do you.”_

_“Not in this frozen hell where nothing grows,” Dominic objects and looks around like he couldn’t hate anything more than the snow. He had told Sascha earlier that what scared him the most was dying here, without seeing the sun and hearing the birds in his last moments, and Sascha had never wanted to cry so bad in his life._

_“I wouldn’t even know how to start a fire,” Sascha says._

_“They taught this in the training center.”_

_“Well, I skipped that lesson,” Sascha says stubbornly. “I need you.”_

_Dominic gives him a small smile. “Fine.”_

_Sascha returns the smile._

_“But promise me…” Dominic says. “When I decide to leave, you’ll just let me leave.”_

_Sascha swallows hard. He doesn’t like these reminders of everything ending eventually._

_“I promise,” he whispers._

He should have never promised that. He should have never let him go.

~ ~ ~

_Andrey is one of the few who decide to manage without starting a fire. He finds a cave, blocks the entrance with snow to protect him from the wind, and puts fir branches on the floor to keep him warmer. He’s doing everything so automatically that it’s hard to believe he had no idea of what the arena would look like._

But Sascha remembers that before Andrey started to work at the power plant, he would disappear into the mountains for days at times. And when he eventually had to go to work, he missed the mountains. He missed the air and the sunlight and the silence, things that were so distant deep down there, in the constant noise and electric light of the power plant.

Maybe this is the reason why he was not afraid as he should have been. He was much more afraid of living his whole life like that, than dying in the arena.

They of course can’t show all of the scenes. Many of them are missing, and they are those Sascha will remember forever.

Like that one evening he got his first parachute with a gift from sponsors, a small pot of soup and a bread bun. He will forever remember the surprise and gratefulness in Dominic’s face when he gave him half of the soup and ripped the bun in half.

Truth is, Sascha has always liked to share. Even when it wasn’t necessary for survival. But in the arena, it was both a strong point and a weakness. Him and Dominic shared that one sleeping bag Dominic had managed to grab, all the food they got hold of, and stories of their lives before the Games, because silence was unbearable.

Having all of this was helping him to survive more than weapons and strategies. He couldn’t survive alone. He couldn’t do this alone.

_The screen is now showing them walking through the forest - if it can even be called that. The trees are black, with thin trunks that can’t hide a person. They are an obstacle in case they need to run, but that’s all they are there for. It’s getting dark, but with the light being artificial, they can’t tell how long the days are. Around them, there are so many shadows that it’s impossible to see danger before it’s too late._

_It’s hard to tell if they scared the other tribute or if he tried to attack them. But when he runs out from behind the trees, he practically bumps into Dominic, and Dominic rolls down the slope. Which gets him out of the way momentarily, and Sascha is almost grateful for it._

_“Sascha!” he hears him call._

_In the moment he has before his vision is just the white of the snow and the black of the other tribute’s clothes, swirling, he sees Dominic trying to get to him, but it’s easier to get down than to get up._

_Then there is a strange sound, and all of a sudden, everything stops. Sascha pushes the other tribute off him, and only then realizes that there is an arrow sticking out from his body._

_Snow cracks under someone’s feet and Sascha scrambles back, eventually daring to lift his eyes and look at the other person._

_It’s not who he thinks it was. It’s not who he remembers getting the bow and arrows from the Cornucopia._

_“Andrey,” he whispers._

_Andrey keeps looking at him for what feels like a solid hour. There would be nothing easier than reaching for another arrow. Two kills instead of one. One step closer to home._

_The cannon sounds in the distance, and breaks the sweet little something of the moment. Andrey grabs Sascha’s dagger that is still lying in the snow, and disappears back in the darkness of the forest. It takes all of Sascha’s self-control not to call him back._

_Just then, Dominic finally makes it up the steep slope._

_“Sascha,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”_

_Sascha is already back on his feet, brushing the snow off his clothes. “I’m fine.”_

_Dominic looks to the trees. “That was…”_

_“Yeah. Andrey.”_

_Dominic runs a hand down Sascha’s arm, like he wants to make sure he isn’t hurt, or like he wants to… connect to him somehow. Like Sascha is too far away from him now, and he doesn’t know how to cross that distance. It’s not the first time he does this, and Sascha wishes he could let him come closer, but somehow, all the defenses he’s got up don’t allow him to open up as much as he wishes he could._

_“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Dominic asks._

_“Yeah,” Sascha says, and he sounds more annoyed than he thought he was. “But minus a dagger.”_

_“Well, there’s something else left for you,” Dominic says._

_Sascha follows his gaze. Still resting against the trunk of the tree is a bow and a quiver half-full of arrows. The second one. The now dead tribute probably left it there when he ran out of his hideout._

_“I shouldn’t have…” Sascha starts. “I… Why didn’t he kill me?”_

_Dominic shakes his head. “You’re alive,” he says. “Nothing else matters. Not here.”_

_“It does matter,” Sascha says. “Being indebted to someone is a terrible thing. Even more so if it’s here.”_

_“Makes it harder to kill them?” Dominic laughs humorlessly._

_For the first time, Sascha is the serious one. “It will be already hard to kill him.”_

_Maybe this is why he could never believe that he could win. Because if Andrey was standing in the way, he doesn’t think he could kill him. Ever. He would rather let Andrey take the win. After all, he was quite ready to die just a few minutes ago._

_“Nobody says it has to be you,” Dominic says quietly._

_They watch the sky that night. Seeing the faces of the fallen tributes projected on the deep blue canvas, Sascha doesn’t feel anything. It’s like it happens in another world, like him and Dominic are in their own little bubble._

_Until Dominic breaks that bubble the following morning._

_Sascha wakes up with the first light. The fire is already out, although the embers still radiate a bit of warmth, and he holds his hands above them before he even fully opens his eyes. Only then he looks at Dominic, and realizes that something’s not right._

_“Sascha,” Dominic says quietly. “It’s time.”_

_Sascha jumps to his feet. “No! It’s not… there are still many…”_

_“Sascha. You promised.”_

_Sascha looks at him and knows that nothing can change his mind. Dominic embraces him awkwardly, and then he’s gone._

Looking back, Sascha realizes that their encounter with Andrey may have had a lot more to do with it than he had thought back then.

He didn’t even last a day without him. That night, Sascha saw his picture in the sky. And all kinds of thoughts and emotions went through him that time, for the first time since he’d entered the arena. He could still hear Dominic’s laughter from the training center, when Sascha was trying to identify plants and animals, and was miserably failing at it. He could see his shy smile, and the way he would try to glance at him when he thought Sascha wasn’t looking. He could feel the touch of his hands when he was putting on the ointment Daniil sent him when another tribute cut his leg with a knife.

What he felt wasn’t sadness, or sorrow, or grief. All he felt was a vague, unidentifiable ache where he had once thought his heart was, but he wasn’t even sure anymore.

This is the time he learns the truth. And he wishes he could just switch the movie off, but he can’t.

He’d thought that their story line with Dominic ended when he left that morning, and from then on, it was him and Andrey again. But now he realizes that Dominic’s death was the point the fates of the three of them merged.

Because the person on the screen that attacks Dominic is no one else than Andrey.

Sascha already knows the outcome. But still, the brutality of it surprises him.

_Andrey knocks him to the ground with such force it completely paralyzes him for a moment, and by the time he’s able to move again, Andrey is already on him, holding him down._

_Sascha remembers Andrey doing this to him when they were younger and wrestled for fun in the wet grass by the dam. Even though he’s always been taller than Andrey, he could never escape from this hold. Andrey once told Sascha that his dad taught him the move. Sascha remembers Andrey’s father participated in the illegal fights that were held sometimes after dark at the old marketplace. People from Sascha’s part of the district were willing to pay for the entertainment. People from Andrey’s part of the district were willing to provide the entertainment for the money._

_And then Andrey pulls out a dagger._

Sascha’s heart skips a beat.

His dagger.

 _Then he brings his face close to Dominic’s, almost like -_ Sascha doesn’t know where this wild thought came from _\- like he wants to kiss him._

_But of course that’s nonsense, and on second look, Sascha understands what it’s about. He’s leaning close to him to whisper something to him. Andrey’s hair and the whole angle make it impossible to make out the words. But whatever he tells him, Dominic stops struggling immediately._

_Then there’s just silence and a red pattern on the crisp white snow._

Sascha’s head is buzzing. He feels like throwing up, but it’s not the blood, it’s not… it’s what happened before. He just can’t grasp that. He can’t process what’s just happened on the screen. Why on earth would someone just give up and let…

He realizes that his hand is still touching Andrey’s, and he quickly moves it away, placing it in his lap. He can’t stand the touch now.

_He watches himself on the screen now, walking across a frozen lake. Not exactly by choice; a blizzard chased him to it - artificial and well programmed, of course, but deadly nonetheless. He is nearly at the other side when Andrey appears from behind the rocks. Sascha reaches for his bow and aims at Andrey on instinct._

_“Stop!” Andrey calls. “Stop right there! Don’t make another step!”_

_Sascha indeed does stop, but not because of what Andrey says. He stops because it’s strange, because Andrey isn’t reaching for a weapon nor quite paying attention to the bow, he’s just standing there looking at him._

_Sascha lowers his arms slowly. Then he hears it. The ominous cracking of the ice. He looks under his feet and notices it. The change of the color of the ice. Grey._

_“Listen to me!” Andrey shouts at him. “Make three very careful steps back.”_

_Sascha nods and carefully shuffles his feet backwards. The ice creaks like an old swing, but doesn’t break._

_“Fine. Now five steps to your left,” Andrey calls. “We’ll get you on thicker ice, okay?”_

_“How the hell do you know it’s five steps to my left?” Sascha yells. “And how big is a step, according to you?”_

_“Sascha, one inch here and there doesn’t make a difference,” Andrey says. “This is ice, not a minefield. Make the five damn steps before I leave you in there!”_

_Sascha obeys, because he has no better option anyways. He expects to fall through the ice at any moment. He doesn’t._

_“Now get down. Lie down. Nice and slow.”_

_Sascha puts the arrow back and swings the bow over his shoulder carefully. Then he lies down on the ice. He crawls forward slowly. The ice crackles like peeling plaster, but holds him up._

_When he reaches the shore, his heart is beating so hard he can almost hear it._

_Andrey nods towards the rocks, and Sascha follows him without giving it a second thought. He remembers Andrey telling him not to trust anyone, not even him, but no matter what his mind says, his heart still trusts him completely._

_“You said you didn’t want allies… and here we are,” Sascha says when they sit down in a place behind the rocks that’s cleared of snow._

_“That I didn’t kill you then doesn’t mean we’re allies,” Andrey says._

_“Then why didn’t you kill me then?” Sascha asks. “Why don’t you kill me now?”_

_“There are still enough tributes left,” Andrey says. “Way too many for me killing my district partner being acceptable.”_

_“So you’re hoping someone else will do the deed, right?” Sascha smirks. “Isn’t that cowardly?”_

_Andrey lowers his eyes and shakes his head slowly. “I prefer not to have hopes,” he says. “Because it’s very likely that in the end, it will come down to the two of us.”_

_They stay silent for a while. Suddenly, Sascha doesn’t know what he’s afraid of more. Dying, or not dying._

_“We should start a fire,” Sascha says then._

_Andrey nods. “In the backpack.”_

_Sascha reaches for it without giving it a thought. Only then it hits him. Why would Andrey let him touch his things?_

_He drops the backpack and takes hold of Andrey’s wrists, pulling him closer._

_His hands are cut up badly. No wonder he didn’t reach for the bow. He wouldn’t be able to even load it with these hands._

_“What’s happened to you?”_

_“A little climbing accident,” Andrey says. “Ice cuts worse than knives.”_

_Sascha lets go of him and reaches for his own backpack. Then he pulls out the jar of ointment. There is still a bit left._

_“Here,” he says._

_Andrey pulls his hands away at first. Sascha can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t trust him, or he doesn’t want him to waste it on him._

_“Take it as thanks,” Sascha says. “For saving me.”_

_Andrey just nods and holds his hands up to him. Sascha dares to smile at him a little, and he would swear that Andrey returns the smile, not by actually smiling, but by keeping his eyes closed a split second longer than usual as he blinks, which is a form of agreement in their old language from the dam in Five. And it warms up Sascha’s frozen heart at least a little bit._

Now it disgusts him and fills him with anger.

Andrey knew then, and didn’t say anything.

He is now damn sure that had he known, he’d have let that arrow fly.

~ ~ ~

Andrey left him before the fire burnt out. He was a lone wolf in the arena, and he stuck to it until the end. For two days after that, Sascha counted the fallen tributes in the sky, and only now he realizes that he never really feared seeing Andrey among them. Not all of the deaths were Andrey’s doing, some froze to death or another accident befell them, and two were on Sascha’s account as well. But the rest were Andrey’s, and none of them could be counted as self defense.

The wolf hunted them down like sheep.

But no matter how brutal those scenes get, nothing can erase the images from earlier. Nothing can wash out that foul taste in Sascha’s mouth they left. Perhaps because these deaths were more or less anonymous. Dominic’s was personal.

He knows that he will never be able to look at Andrey the same way as before. But maybe Andrey isn’t who he used to be. Maybe Sascha isn’t who he used to be either. After all, Karen told them that the Games would always change a person, and never for the better.

When the time for the crowning comes, Sascha feels like he’s submerged under water. Everything is muted and his body feels heavy. Andrey receives his crown first, and he somehow manages to smile and say something polite to the President. Then it’s Sascha’s turn.

When he was a kid, the Games terrified him, first the thought that his brother would get reaped and he would lose him, then, when he was old enough, he feared it would be his turn. But this part, this part he actually liked, he thought it was so cool, sometimes he imagined the crown being placed on his head.

Now he finally sees how ridiculous it is.

A crown bathed in blood. A life bought with so many others’.

When the ceremony is done, it’s like he wakes up from a dream. He’s not even sure that all the cameras are turned off now or that there is no one following him. He rips the crown off, jumps down the couple stairs leading to the stage and pushes Andrey against the wall. Andrey instinctively raises his arm to defend himself, but merely holds Sascha at a distance. He makes no other effort to push him away. Like he couldn’t care less if Sascha killed him now.

“You knew…” Sascha growls. “When you saved me from that lake… You killed him and didn’t even tell me that you did.”

“No,” Andrey says calmly. “Because it wasn’t important.”

“It was important to me! _He_ was important to me!” Sascha screams and doesn’t even realize that he’s raised his fist to punch Andrey until Daniil’s fingers wrap around his wrist and stop him.

“Stop!” Daniil barks, tearing him off Andrey. “Are you out of your mind?”

Truth to be told, Sascha feels like he maybe is out of his mind, or losing his mind at this very moment.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Sascha wants to hit him, he wants to yell at him, at everyone, what the hell is wrong with _them all_.

“He killed him!” he spits out. “Dominic.”

Daniil looks unfazed. “Yeah. That’s the Games. That’s the point.”

However Sascha feels confused and frustrated, it seems that at least Karen somehow understands what is going on. He takes Andrey around the shoulders and leads him away. The further they are from Sascha, the easier it is to breathe.

Sascha should end it at that. He should let Andrey go and hope that one day, he would be able to at least look at him without feeling all that anger and disgust and hurt.

But he can’t.

“What did you tell him?” he calls after him.

Andrey turns around and looks at him. “What?”

“You said something to Dominic, before you killed him. What was it?”

Andrey hesitates for a moment, then he shakes his head and turns his back to Sascha. Sascha lurches forward, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

“I said… what the fuck… did you tell him?”

“That it was for you,” Andrey says. “That I was doing it for you.”

Sascha stares at him without a word. He’s slowly starting to understand that this was all premeditated, planned, as much as it could have been. That Andrey manipulated the Games to go his way. He manipulated Sascha to do what he needed him to do. He pretended to have given up on him to make everyone think they were rivals, to keep Sascha safe. He made sure he’d get the bow and arrows, so that he could have their final deadlock. Andrey was planning on getting them both out of the arena before they even entered it.

“You knew you were going to do it,” Sascha states. “Save me, whether I wanted it or not.”

“I was wrong,” Andrey whispers. “I was wrong when I thought I could…”

Sascha lets his hand fall down.

“I was saving something that was no longer there,” Andrey says.

~ ~ ~

On the way to the train station, Daniil keeps Sascha as close as possible, just in case he needs to physically stop him from doing something stupid. Karen sticks to Andrey, and keeps reminding him to smile. The Games might be over, but they are still playing. And will be playing for the rest of their lives, as Sascha is starting to realize, and he hates Andrey even more for it.

The crowd waves to them, like they are the nation’s biggest treasure, and yet a month ago, no one knew them. They were nothing, a merchant’s son and a power plant worker from a district no one cared about as long as the power in their homes was on.

The thought of coming back here disgusts Sascha. The feeling of being loved by these people disgusts him. The prospect of catering to their whims disgusts him.

But if he has to go back, let it be it. Now he just wants to leave. He wants to have the illusion of going back to his old life.

The train swallows them again and starts to move.

Tomorrow, they will be home.

~ ~ ~

The door of the compartment opens almost without a sound when Sascha places his hand on the sensor next to it. The compartment isn’t completely dark, the thin neon stripes of the emergency lights giving it an eerie, pale blue glint.

Andrey is sound asleep. For a moment, Sascha thinks about how he doesn’t look like someone who killed people in cold blood, not here and now, in the simple white shirt, curled up under the ridiculous Capitol-style shiny blanket. He looks just like Sascha knows him from Five.

Sascha just stands there for what feels like hours, wondering what would happen if he killed him. Would anyone even care? Or would they think that he simply went mad, like so many of them have before?

Wouldn’t they be right, after all?

He makes a tiny step. He’s not even thinking anymore, something is pushing him, like he’s a puppet. He turns back to the door, but it’s closed and no sounds can be heard from the corridor. Behind the windows, it’s completely dark. Whatever district they are passing through now has to be one of the poor ones that have no power to waste. Maybe it’s Eleven.

The thought is the final push, and Sascha reaches for one of the spare, decorative pillows.

Just then, Andrey moves. Then again. A small whimper gets past his lips. He makes an abrupt movement. Then another. The whimpers become sobs and screams, and suddenly, Sascha knows where Andrey is in his dream right now.

Something breaks inside of him, and he drops the pillow, taking firm hold of Andrey’s shoulders instead.

“Andrey,” he calls. “Andrey! Wake up!”

It takes vigorous shaking for Andrey to snap out of the dream. When he finally does, he sits up abruptly and looks at Sascha with wide eyes.

“You’re not there,” Sascha says quietly. “It’s over. You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

Andrey nods and lays his head on Sascha’s shoulder for a moment. Sascha lets him, and just thinks about how he went from wanting to suffocate Andrey with a pillow to consoling him now.

Andrey lets go of him after a while, like his mind finally clears enough to remember that they aren’t friends anymore.

“It’s fine now,” he says. “I’m fine. You can go.”

He doesn’t ask why Sascha is even there. Maybe he knows.

Sascha nods, but doesn’t get up. Suddenly, he feels like this is the only place where he belongs.

~ ~ ~

He wakes up curled up in the corner of Andrey’s bed. Warm orange light is pouring in through the windows, with shadows dancing around as the train moves.

Andrey is sitting with his back against the headboard, hugging his knees and looking out of the window. When he notices that Sascha is awake, he nods towards the window without a word. Sascha crawls across the bed to have a look.

On the horizon, he sees the dark silhouette of the power plant.

They are in Five.

They are home.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a spin-off because... yeah, I'm a sucker for Hunger Games AUs.


End file.
